


Driven By Desire

by KDorn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:47:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28243398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KDorn/pseuds/KDorn
Summary: Things have been different since Cas came back from The Empty (S13). After an incident at a drive-in movie, things are quickly spiraling. Tensions are high and emotions are reaching their boiling point.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 14
Kudos: 40





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all, 
> 
> This is my first attempt at writing any kind of fanfic. I haven't actually read much either (I'm a newbie to this part of the fandom). I'm not sure if I'm going to keep this as a short one off or expand it into a longer story. Any constructive feedback is always welcome and if anyone would be interested in me turning this into a longer story, please let me know. <3K
> 
> Update: Thank you for the feedback! I'm going to be expanding this into a longer story. I don't have a set schedule for releasing chapters, but I want to try to do at least one per week. Like I said before, I'm a newbie here. So if there is anything you all think needs to be adjusted (tags, warnings, stuff like that) please let me know.

Sam pulled the Impala into an open space at the back of the drive-in and turned the key, cutting the loud purr of the engine, but leaving the radio on. The sound of Dean digging through a plastic grocery bag filled the silence. 

“Dude, you better have gotten licorice this time. Especially since you dragged us all to this snooze fest,” Dean grumbled.

“Dean, Singing in the Rain is a classic. Just because you’re uncultured…”

“Hey, I’ve got culture coming outta my ass! I picked the last one!”

“The last one was Mars Attacks…”

Dean held both of his hands out, palms up.

“Like I said. Culture.”

Sam rolled his eyes and turned to tune the radio to the station set for the movie’s audio. 

“Will there be lots of explosions in this one, like the last one?” Jack asked, his face practically glowing with giddy excitement. Jack loved movies, but even more at the drive-in. 

“No, this one has music and dancing. I think you’ll like it!” Sam replied. 

Dean made a rude sound and turned to look at Cas. 

“What about you, Cas? What do you think?”

Cas, sitting quietly next to Jack in the backseat, looked at Dean with a slightly exasperated look on his face. 

“I don’t really have an opinion, but anything would be better than that one you showed me with the monkey”

Dean raised his right hand to his chest and said indignantly, “How DARE you?! And his name is CLYDE.”

Cas shook his head while smiling fondly at Dean’s response. Sam laughed as the sound of the advertisements came through the car speakers. The previews for next month’s movies would be staring any minute. 

They sat in silence for a bit, everyone getting settled and comfortable, Dean tossing snacks to Sam and Jack. As unenthusiastic as Dean was about the movie choice for the evening, he was glad to have everyone together. Things between them all had been strange over the last few weeks, especially him and Cas. Nothing major had gone down since Cas had come back from the dead, so Dean wasn’t sure what was making everything so weird, but he was trying to do what he always did, ignore it and act like everything was normal. Hey, it worked for him so far. As the previews were coming to an end, Jack spoke from behind Dean.

“Hey, can I trade seats with one of you? It’s hard to see the movie with your heads in the way.”

Dean turned to Jack, frowning. “Can’t you just watch in between us or something?”

“Come on, PLEASE,” Jack begged, “you’re both so much taller than me and my neck always hurts when I have to bend it to see past you guys.”

Dean looked over at Sam, who was already glaring at him. Dean raised his eyebrows and jerked his head toward the backseat. Sam lowered his eyebrows, shook his head and pointed at Dean, then the backseat. Dean shook his head and glared back at Sam. Sam rolled his eyes and held his fist out to Dean. Now it was Dean’s turn to roll his eyes. He held his fist up and stared steadily at his brother. Their fists went down 1, 2, 3 times and…

“DAMMIT!”

“Ah Dean, always the scissors. Hop on back.” 

Grumbling profanities, Dean got out of the car and gave up his seat to Jack, who was working hard to hide the smile creeping across his face. Dean slid into the back seat next to Cas and slammed the door. Dean had a clear view over Jack’s head from back here. Plus, there was more room for him to stretch out his legs, so…bonus.

As everyone settled in, the sound of the title credits started, and they all focused on the screen. Dean would never admit it out loud, but the dancing in this movie was pretty cool. He’d seen Gene Kelly in a few movies and something about him and the way he moved had always captivated Dean. As the movie went on, Dean began to get bored. His mind and eyes wandered. He looked out at the other cars, then back at the screen for a bit and then glanced at the angel sitting beside him. The bright blue of Cas’ eyes was slightly dulled by the darkness surrounding them, but nothing could make them anything but striking. Cas took a deep, shaky breath, but remained silent in his seat. Dean looked questioningly at Cas. With a small smile, he dropped his gaze to the hands resting in his lap and eventually looked back at the screen. This was the weirdness Dean had been noticing. He had even brought it up to Sam, but he either hadn’t noticed it or didn’t think it was anything to worry about. Dean had caught Cas staring at him a lot over the last few weeks, sometimes looking sad, other times with a smile, but most of the time with a look that Dean couldn’t read. That was the look that scared him. Something was off and he couldn’t tell what it was. And because he couldn’t tell, he had no idea what to do about it. It had gotten to the point where he was worrying so much, he would have nightmares of all the things that could go wrong, of losing his best friend again. He almost didn’t make it through the last time. Trying to imagine going through the rest of his life without Cas…it made the air feel hard to breathe. He shook his head to stop the path his thoughts were taking. Cas was here, sitting right next to him. Nothing was going to take him away, ever again. Dean would make damn sure of that. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and tried to focus his attention on the brightly colored figures on the screen. 

***

Cas was trying so hard to appear nonchalant, but he was struggling. Thankfully, no one seemed to notice. Sam and Jack were focused on the screen and Dean seemed lost in thoughts of his own. It had been 16 days since his late-night conversation with Sam. After about an hour of pacing up and down their hallway, Sam had emerged from his room looking tired and slightly annoyed and asked him what was wrong. 2 hours later Cas had laid everything bare; his worries about his failing grace, about Jack’s future fate, and, his biggest worry, his feelings for Dean. Sam had seemed somewhat unsurprised...about everything. He had promised Cas that their conversation would remain between them but had encouraged him to try talking to Dean about it. Sam wasn’t trying to be pushy, but Cas had noticed that he had somehow ended up alone with Dean a lot more over the past few weeks. Even now, being so close to him in the backseat of the Impala, Cas’ entire being was vibrating, fighting the urge to scoot closer to him. He was so conflicted. On one hand, he wanted so badly to tell Dean how much he loved him, admired him and how his life was better because Dean was in it. On the other hand, he knew Dean could never feel that way about him and he didn’t want to make Dean uncomfortable or ruin the bond that they shared. 

Cas risked another glance at Dean. It still surprised him how beautiful Dean was. He had known Dean for almost a decade, and yet every time Cas looked at him, he noticed something new that made his love for Dean grow. Suddenly, Dean glanced over at him and everything seemed to stop. The bright lights from the movie screen had illuminated his eyes and Cas quietly gasped, momentarily stunned. He would never tire of those eyes. The light made his green/brown eyes almost glow. Staring into them felt like wandering through a thick forest on a warm sunny day. He wished he could stay lost in those eyes, but the look in them now was confused, questioning. Cas realized he had been staring and with a shy smile dropped his gaze. He turned his attention back to the movie screen and tried to focus. From what he could tell, the movie was very romantic. The main characters would sing to one another, stare longingly at one another, hold hands reverently. Cas had imagined holding Dean’s hand. He had always wondered how it would feel, the weight, the warmth. Without realizing it, his gaze was back on Dean, focused on the arms crossed over his chest. Dean shifted slightly and uncrossed his arms, letting his hands rest palm down on his thighs. Cas noticed a small white scar on the back of Dean’s left hand. He had the strangest urge to touch the skin there, to see if it was soft or rough. After a moment of hesitation, he slowly reached for Dean’s hand. 

***

Feeling the touch of fingers, Dean’s head jerked to look at Cas, then followed Cas’ gaze to his hand. Dean took a quiet breath as if to speak, but Cas caught his eyes and shook his head slightly. Dean remained silent, but his brow furrowed, and his head tilted, questioning. Cas ignored it and took Dean’s hand fully in his. He turned it over and started gently tracing the lines across his palm. Every featherlight stroke of Cas’ fingers against Dean’s skin felt electric, each pass leaving tiny sparks of tingly energy in its wake. Dean’s entire body broke out in chills. He shifted in his seat, then remembered the others in the car and tried to remain still. Cas saw the goosebumps on Dean’s skin and was fascinated by them. Having explored all the paths of Dean’s palm, Cas turned his hand over and began to trace every inch of skin, from fingertips to wrist. Dean struggled not to move, his entire focus on Cas’ fingers gliding slowly, endlessly over his skin. Then, Cas gently raised Dean’s hand to his face and placed a soft kiss on his palm. His blue eyes were hidden behind closed lids as he lingered, breathing in the scent of Dean’s skin. Dean was shocked to feel the sting of tears in his eyes. He’d never felt anything like this before. It was ridiculous considering how tame the movements were, but they felt so…intimate. Cas’ eyes opened slowly, and his heavy lidded gaze locked with Dean’s. He placed his mouth gently back on Dean’s palm. Dean was startled by the sudden warm, wet glide of Cas’ tongue. Dean’s breath came out in a quiet gasp as his eyes closed. He couldn’t see, hear or feel anything other than Cas’ mouth on his skin, his tongue tracing the lines of his palm, then each of his fingers, drawing circles on the pads of his fingertips, and finally the light graze of his teeth. This drew a not so quiet gasp out of Dean. Dean covered the noise with a cough as Cas released his hand.

Sam turned and asked, “You ok?”

“Yeah,” Dean cleared his throat, “just uh…must have dozed off. Sorry.”

Sam squinted his eyes suspiciously, looking between Dean and Cas.

“Well, the torture’s almost over. There’s only like 15 minutes left.”

“Awesome. Wake me when it’s over,” Dean said jokingly. 

Sam turned back to the movie screen. After a minute, Dean risked a glance at Cas. He was staring unblinking out his window. If he was breathing, Dean couldn’t tell. Meanwhile, Dean was doing his best not to pant like he just ran a marathon. His had was slightly damp and still tingling as if he’d touched a live wire. What the hell was that? Not just what Cas did, but what HE did, or rather DIDN’T do, which was stop him. Dean could have pulled his hand away. Cas wouldn’t have fought him. Did Dean want him to? Questions and feelings were swimming though his brain. He shifted slightly and realized that his brain wasn’t the only thing that was overstimulated right now. He casually moved his hands to cover the obvious bulge in his jeans, trying to find a comfortable sitting position. After a few adjustments that didn’t help in the slightest, Dean said, as casually as possible, “I gotta go take a piss. Be right back.” 

He closed the door and walked in the direction of the bathroom. One look back at the Impala and he would have seen Cas watching him walk away. But Dean didn’t look back. He was afraid of what he would do if he did.


	2. Chapter Two

Dean slammed the bathroom door behind him, locked it and leaned against it, resting the back of his head on the cool surface. He closed his eyes and tried to calm down. So many thoughts were circling in his head, dangerous thoughts that were heading in directions that he knew were dead ends. Dean bumped his head against the hard door, then again with a bit more force, trying to knock some sense into himself. As he slowly gained back control, he could still feel the slight tingling in his hand. The hand that Cas had explored was no longer damp, but felt charged, as if every nerve were exposed to the cool air. He clenched that hand into a fist, then relaxed it. He spread his fingers wide and looked at his palm. It looked the same as it always had. At least, Dean assumed it did. He hadn’t really given it much thought before. He rubbed his fingertips together, noticing how the skin felt softer than he remembered. He could feel the ghost of Cas’ touch across his palm and it caused his breath to catch and the tent in his jeans to twitch. He pressed his hand against his groin to try and relieve some of the pressure, but it did nothing but draw a small noise of pleasure from him. His hips automatically pushed forward against his hand, intensifying the sensation and drawing a groan from deep in his chest.

Fuck, this feels so pervy, Dean thought. He wasn’t a choir boy, but he wasn’t a “jack it” in the back room kind of guy either. He had done some wild stuff in the past, one or two things that still made him blush, but he had never had so little control over his own body. Every brush of air against his skin brought flashes of Cas’ fingers, his tongue, those sharp sapphire eyes watching him. Dean’s hips kept moving of their own accord, tiny forward motions, seeking the release he was trying to deny himself. If he didn’t take care of this now, it would be a long hour drive back to the bunker, especially with Cas still in the car. If he made it back without embarrassing himself it would be a freaking miracle. Either way, Sam was bound to notice. He really didn’t want to have this conversation with his brother. Hell, he was doing his best to avoid having it with himself. As his inner debate continued, his body was taking on a rhythm of its own. His muscles tensed, hips pushing forward, his hand pushing back against his groin. He felt a spot of moisture in his underwear and the sensation of it combined with the sudden visual of Cas’ tongue against his skin wiped every coherent thought from his head. 

Dean unbuttoned his jeans and pulled the zipper slowly down. His dick was already fighting to free itself, the tip pointing straight up to Dean’s stomach. He stroked himself over the thin cotton material, but the friction was too much. He slid his still tingling hand under the band and grasped himself firmly. His hips surged toward the pressure of his hand as a guttural grunt echoed off the tile walls. He wasn’t going to last long. Images of Cas touching, licking the hand that was now touching the most intimate part of him brought him to the brink almost immediately. Three more thrusts of his hips and he came with an echoing shout. He could feel the damp patches staining his black boxer briefs, but thankfully the dark material wouldn’t show anything. Dean’s head fell back against the door as he struggled to catch his breath. Suddenly, an image of Cas gently kissing his palm flashed behind his eyes and Dean had to lock his knees to stay standing. He shook his head and for the first time looked around the room.

There were two regular sized stalls with a larger stall on the end. Most of the faded green walls were covered in crude writing. To the left of the stalls was a small sink with a cracked mirror on the wall above it. Dean hurried over to it and grabbed a handful of paper towels from the dispenser on the wall. He did his best to clean up the mess he made, replaced his clothing and washed his hands. He grabbed more paper towels and after drying his hands, stared at himself in the mirror. His eyes were a bit too wide, there was a pinkish flush to his cheeks that made the smattering of freckles across his nose stand out. He looked shaken, almost scared. He looked down and saw that the hand holding the towels was shaking. That small trembling, more than anything else, made him feel weak. Looking back at the mirror, he watched his face darken and saw the fear in his eyes replaced with anger. He slammed the crumpled paper into the trash can, then kicked it across the room. This is good, he thought. Whatever Cas had awoken in him he didn’t understand, but this…he knew how to be this. His anger added layers to his inner walls, making them impenetrable to anything or anyone. It made him feel strong, focused, driven. He gave himself one more glance in the mirror, steeled his shoulders and turned to the door. He left the bathroom and walked back to where Baby was parked. He approached the driver’s side and opened the car door.

“Move over, I’m driving.”

Sam looked at his brother’s face, alert to the drastic change in his mood.

“What’s wrong, Dean? Are you ok?”

“Nothing is wrong,” Dean grumbled, “except that you drive like a grandma and I’d like to get home before midnight. Now get out of my seat.”

Sam scooted over to the other side of the front seat as Jack moved back to his original seat. He was still staring at Dean, not convinced in the slightest that he was ok, but letting it go…for now. Dean adjusted the rearview mirror and caught a glimpse of Cas’ worried eyes trying to meet his. Dean moved the mirror so he wouldn’t have to see them and started the car. The Impala roared to life and Dean maneuvered her out of their parking space, the gravel hitting the underside sounding like a hailstorm. He flipped the radio over to the tape deck, turned the music up and started the hour-long journey home.


End file.
